


After Party, Gallavich Style

by Aelia_Gioia



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelia_Gioia/pseuds/Aelia_Gioia
Summary: Both of the Gallavich couples living on South Wallace get down after Franny's birthday party.
Relationships: Debbie Gallagher/Sandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	After Party, Gallavich Style

With the party officially over, the decorations half taken down, Debbie was in a funk.

“I really thought she’d get into it,” she said forlornly. Sandy stuffed another handful of pink streamers and popped balloons into the black plastic trash bag.

“She’s just not that girly, babe. But when she gets older, I promise, she’ll remember the effort her mom made for her birthdays.”

“Next year, I guess I’ll do a GI Joe theme. Ian can wear his old uniform and she can roll around in the mud with Mickey.” Debbie smiled for the first time in the last hour.

“And I’ll be right here to help you set up the green streamers and balloons,” Sandy took Debbie’s hand and kissed it.  Debbie lost her breath for a second. These  Milkoviches sure were smooth and they apparently had a thing for the gay ginger  Gallaghers . She smiled  a ‘how did I get so lucky ? ' smile at Sandy.

“C’mon – we can finish cleaning up tomorrow. I have plans for the mother of the birthday girl.” S andy cupped Debbie’s cheek and kissed her mouth sweetly.

Debbie kept her eyes closed after the kiss ended and pursed her lips, clearly her mind was transported somewhere else.

“What is it?” Sandy asked softly.

“Am I a bad mom?” Her eyes went wide with worry. She’d made so many mistakes in her 20 years and she had to live with them. She was ok with them. Fucking up her daughter though...she was not ok with that. She absentmindedly rubbed the outside of her ankle monitor against her opposite calf.

Sandy clicked her tongue. “No, honey you aren’t. You did everything you could do to give your baby a nice party. That’s not what a bad mom does. A bad mom…”

“Slits her wrists in the kitchen in front of her kids on Thanksgiving?” Debbie asked, wounded.

Sandy’s eyebrows came together and she followed Debbie’s glance to the Gallagher kitchen. 

“That’s dark and…oddly specific.” She knew Monica Gallagher was a terribly troubled woman but goddamn, that was worse than she’d have thought. There was an unspoken rule between them and talking about Monica was out of the question. Debbie rarely spoke about her and Sandy wasn't about to push the matter; she didn't exactly want to talk about her own shitty parents, either. “Come on. Bedtime.”

She took Debbie’s hand and pulled her up the stairs to their shared bedroom. Once the door was securely closed behind them, Sandy took the tiara off of Debbie’s head and gently pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it fall in auburn waves over both shoulders. She peppered Debbie’s neck with soft kisses as she unzipped the offensively pink dress. 

“How did you even find this at the dollar store?” She teased.

“That’s why I go to that one. They buy a shit ton of leftover stuff when the pop-up costume store  next door  closes after Halloween. It’s cute, right?” Debbie gives the skirt of the dress one last flounce before it falls to the floor.

“I always had a thing for Princess Peach so...yeah, we’ll get some use out of it,” Sandy replied with a wink. She gave Debbie’s long hair a tug and pulled her in close. “ Gonna take my time with you tonight.”

Debbie smirked and kissed her girlfriend, letting her tongue sweep into her mouth. “I love  you, you know.”

Sandy stopped and went very still with wide eyes.

“I know we don’t really say it, but you know I do, right?”

“I love you too,” Sandy whispered and unbuttoned her jeans. Debbie relaxed back on the bed with her hands behind her head. 

She bit her lip and watched Sandy slither out of her tight jeans. She was wearing black bikini-style panties, different from her usual  shortie boxer briefs. 

“Mm. My girl is so hot,” Debbie said, letting her legs fall open a little. Sandy blushed and looked away, hiding in her messy hair and clicking her lip ring against her bottom teeth. Debbie giggled quietly and held a hand out for her. 

Sandy pulled her t-shirt over her  head, her pink nipples and perky breasts shook a little as she knelt up on the bed. She slowly lowered herself on top of Debbie and threaded her fingers through her hair. 

Their kisses grew deeper, more passionate and Sandy pushed her thigh between Debbie’s legs, feeling her heat. She was already getting wet.

“Mm. ..Aleksandra …” the younger woman moaned. 

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

One side of Debbie’s lips curled up. “Your name is so sexy though. You like when I call you  _ Aleksandra.” _

“Maybe just a little,” Sandy smirked and slid one hand down the front of Debbie’s panties. Her thighs fell further apart as Sandy’s fingers sought out her tight bundle of nerves. She moaned low in her chest when she found it. Debbie held Sandy in place by the back of her hair.

“ _ God _ ,” she whined. “Right  _ there.” _

“Hey Rug Munchers, you in there?” Mickey’s heavy fist pounded on the outside of the door.

Debbie’s thighs clamped shut and she nearly  headbutted Sandy as she sat up.

“Lay back, let me handle this,” Sandy kissed her deeply and pulled her hand free. She sucked on her long, thin middle finger and teased Debbie’s lips with her pointer finger.

Getting off the bed but not bothering to put her shirt back on, Sandy opened the bedroom door. Mickey averted his eyes, looking slightly disgusted by her nakedness.

“Jesus Christ, put those away,” he  flappe d his hand at her.

“You’re interrupting. What do you want?”

“Franny’s tired. She wants to go to bed.” Mickey was holding the little girl’s hand. She was still wearing her princess dress but it was covered in large patches of dirt and it was torn. She looked up at Sandy and yawned. Sandy eyed the dirt all over Mickey, too. Whatever they’d gotten up to playing in the yard, she hoped he hadn’t tracked a mess all over the house on his boots. According to Debbie’s Chore Chart, it was her turn to sweep up the next day. She didn't  _ explicitly  _ live at the house on South Wallace but she definitely felt her heart strings buzz to see her name on the dumbass chart in the kitchen.

“Ok, she needs a bath, can you handle that?” Sandy crossed her arms over her bare chest. 

Mickey looked hesitant. “Um…”

“I’ll give her a bath. C’mon kiddo,” Ian showed up in the hallway behind them and he scooped his niece up off her feet. 

“I had fun, Uncle Mickey,” Franny said, yawning again and resting her head in the crook of Ian’s neck.

“Me too, Birthday Girl.” He winked at her. She offered her tiny hand and he lightly high-fived her.

“Ugh, you need a shower, too. You smell like a dumpster.” Ian wrinkled his nose at his husband when he leaned in to kiss Mickey’s cheek.

Mickey raised an eyebrow and turned to watch Ian take Franny to the bathroom. “Yeah,  cuz you smell like a bed of fuckin' roses when you get home from  humpin ’ boxes all damn day like a drone.”

Ian threw up a middle finger at him without looking back and closed the bathroom door behind him.

“Trouble in paradise?” Sandy asked when Mickey turned back to her.

“ Naw . He wants me to get a ‘real’ job,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers. “I  ain’t built like that.” 

“You  _ know _ you have to start pulling your weight around here, right? Like, you’re not that dense,” she replied. “ I even threw in for groceries and electric last week.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just don’t like being told what to do,” Mickey tried waving her off. “I made more money today than I  woulda made all month at a shitty warehouse job, this oughta shut him up for a while.” Mickey rubbed the back of his neck.

Sandy raised an eyebrow at him. “Who’re you kidding?” She laughed and hid her smile behind one hand. Mickey raised an eyebrow back at her. “This house is only so big, Mickey. You’re  gonna try telling me you don’t like getting told what to do?” She smirked at him victoriously.

Mickey groaned and rolled his eyes. There was no arguing - he and Ian really did need their own  pla ce ; i f for no other reason  than he wanted to get as loud as he wanted to without all the fucking  Gallaghers knowing about it. It was bad enough seeing Carl’s eyes go wide at the sight of the ball gag on the basketball hoop in their bedroom. He’d come in to ask Ian a question  about the right form for a  pull up or some shit  and for the duration of his stay in the room, his eyes were locked on the sex toy that had been strapped onto Mickey the previous night.

“Listen - since you’re on some weird no sex streak, can Franny sleep in your room tonight?” Sandy asked hopefully. The little girl was a heavy sleeper but they still had to be careful and quiet. Sandy was in no mood for careful or quiet.

“Yeah, no,” Mickey said with a laugh. “I’m still  gonna fuck with him. He's got his panties in a twist but he’ll cave. We’re  gonna bang it out.”

Liam came up the stairs and passed the cousins on the way to his  own  room. 

“Hey, Small Fry - Franny’s  gonna sleep in your room tonight,” Mickey told him. The boy nodded, not really minding and knowing he wasn’t going to win any argument with his brother-in-law (and not exactly comfortable standing there a few feet from his sister’s mostly naked girlfriend) . He continued down the hallway, shutting his door behind him. “That’s sorted,” he turned back to Sandy with a grin.

“Can I get back to my girlfriend’s pussy now?” Sandy put a hand on her hip.

“Ugh,  _ God _ ,” Mickey groaned. “That’s my sister-in-law you’re talking about.”

“Ung, yeah...yeah...Ian...fuck...yeah Daddy…harder...” Sandy mimicked the whiny moaning they’d all heard coming from the newlywed’s bedroom.

He pursed his lips and held up both middle fingers at her before turning on his heel. He slammed the bedroom door behind him.

Sandy turned back to Debbie and closed the door. “Where were we?”

“Um...I don’t remember,” the redhead responded, sitting up in bed. She chuckled, reached behind her with one hand and unhooked her bra, tossing it playfully across the room at Sandy.

“Uncle Ian?” Franny said after he’d poured a red Solo cup of warm water over her head.

“Yeah?”

“Uncle Mickey’s not really my  _ favorite _ uncle.” Her little voice was sleepy and her eyes looked worried.

Ian smirked at her and started working the tearless shampoo through her hair. “Oh no?”

“He’s only  _ a little bit _ my favorite.” She held up her thumb and first finger , pinching the air to demonstrate smallness.

He laughed, finished washing her hair and held one hand over her eyes to shield her from the water as he rinsed. “Well that’s good to know, Franny . T hanks.”

“Are you guys  gunna have kids too? Uncle Lip has Freddy.”

Ian sighed and held the towel out for her. “ Dunno . We’ll see.” He dried her off and found pajamas hanging on the back of the bathroom door. “You want more cousins, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically, droplets of water flying off the curly ends of her hair. 

"I'll see what I can do, ok?" Ian bopped her on the nose and carefully towel-dried her hair. She giggled.

"Mm…" Debbie squeezed her eyes shut and dragged her short nails against the headboard. She lifted her head from the pillow and saw the top of Sandy’s head between her thighs. Rolling her hips upward she clenched her pc muscles trying with all her might to hold her orgasm back. She'd only been with a couple of women but Sandy was better than all of them combined. Her mouth and tongue worked her over like they were designed with only her body in mind. She clutched at her bare breast and pulled her own hair. Sandy wrapped her lips around her clit and sucked while curling her fingers up inside her, drumming against her core.

“ Aah ... aah …” Her thighs started to shake and her abs were contracting and there was no  tampering it anymore. She felt the flood coming and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Sandy knew it too. She could count on it. Whenever Debbie moaned like that, when her hips rocked like that, when she was struggling to keep her thighs apart, she knew it was coming.

And she couldn’t fucking wait. 

S andy  knew she was good at eating pussy. She’d always been good at it from the first tentative lick she’d taken at her very first girlfriend in middle school. But she’d never had a woman cum like Debbie did. There’d been no headboard grabbing, no jelly legs before Debbie. In the beginning, Sandy thought it was an act but the first time she made Debbie squirt halfway across the room, she was dumbfounded after she realized how genuine it all was.

She’d seen it in porn, of course, but she always figured it was movie stuff - water put up some girl’s hooch with a turkey baster that she pushed out of her hole during a made-for-stupid-men-only sex scene. Then little freckled Debbie Gallagher came along and splattered hot liquid down her wrist and all over her face. Even as it dripped from her bottom lip, Sandy couldn’t believe it had actually happened. 

Debbie, of course, was completely mortified. Poor innocent thing. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT?! Did I just  _ pee _ on you?!” She clawed at her flushed cheeks wearing a horrified expression.

“No you did not,” Sandy replied, wiping her hand on the top sheet and licking her lip. The brunette pushed the tip of her tongue into her cheek and smirked. “Debbie that was fucking  _ hot _ . You didn’t tell me you were a  squirter …you really  oughta warn a girl...” she said with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Umm...that has never, ever happened before. What the hell even just happened?!”

Taking it as a compliment of the highest order, Sandy teased her by blowing on her nails and pretending to shine them on her shoulder. 

All these months later after the princess party, Debbie was trying not to be so loud, her brothers  each flushed at the breakfast table the  morning after  she ’d last been indiscreet .

“ Ung...uh...oh  _ god  _ _ ohgodohgod _ _ …” _ Debbie muffled her mouth with one hand as she came all over Sandy’s face. Her pelvis shook violently. Sandy had been  finger fucking her while she ate her out but she needed to was  hold her thighs open with both palms; they quaked and she had to push extra hard to keep them in place against the mattress. Debbie didn’t notice but Sandy had the foresight to put a towel down on the bed to make clean-up a little easier on them both - there was nothing worse than the debate of ‘do we change the sheets now or sleep on the wet spot?’ 

“Fuck that is so hot,” Sandy flicked her tongue against Debbie’s glistening clit and then into her. She pushed two curled fingers into her and lapped up as much as she could while Debbie rode out a second powerful orgasm and then a third.

“Stop - stop - please -” Debbie pressed the heel of her hand into Sandy’s forehead to push her away from her trembling, highly sensitive body. 

“Sorry,” Sandy wiped her mouth on the back of her arm.

“No - don’t be sorry, just...holy fuck. Ugh, god I did it again...” Debbie covered her face with both hands and as her breathing regulated, she peeked at Sandy through her fingers. The older woman smirked, fired a finger gun at her and blew on it. The redhead snorted.

“You’re so stupid,” she laughed and sat up, reaching for Sandy. 

“I might be stupid but I make you cum like a Roman Candle, Wet  Wet .”

“Ok, you're not allowed to  call me that,” Debbie rolled her eyes and pulled Sandy in for a kiss. She felt her wet thighs brush against the soaked terry cloth towel on the bed and she shivered.

“Why can’t I? I call you Wet  Wet cuz you mess up the bed set,” Sandy grinned and bit her lower lip. 

“Oh my god  _ stop _ . It’s so embarrassing,” Debbie tried hiding in her pillow. 

“Not the word I’d use…” Sandy rolled her hips into Debbie’s thigh and  bit her lip while  the younger woman took a few extra seconds to recover. A deep breath and a sigh later, Debbie was sliding down the length of the bed  to slot herself between Sandy’s perfect legs.

In the next room, Mickey was sitting on the bed, his boxers and undershirt full of cash and he’d just thrown  _ another _ dollar bill at Ian, still doing sit-ups on the floor.

“Will you knock it the  _ fuck _ off?” Ian snapped at him.

Mickey suppressed a grin; he’d been trying to burrow under Ian’s skin. The ginger’s red face, gnashed teeth and frustrated sighs were a sure sign that he’d accomplished his goal. 

“Knock what off? Showing you that my way  is better than yours every damn day of the week and twice on Sunday?”

“Your  _ dishonest _ , way? That way?” Ian turned and growled .

“Spin it however the fuck you want, Ian. I'm  taking  care of us. Bills are covered and I’ll start repaying the wedding money. I earned today. ”

“Illegally,” Ian said, continuing to do sit ups, punching at the air. He punched a little harder, imagining Mickey’s crotch being the target.

“Illegally - whatever. The shit was getting thrown out anyway. I capitalized on it. Isn’t that what we do in this country?”

Ian grunted and didn’t reply at first. “Fine, the shit is getting thrown out but you still  _ stole _ a fucking tow truck. Is it really your brilliant plan to steal a different tow truck every time? Cuz you know you can’t hide a fucking tow truck here.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and ignored Ian’s perfectly logical statement.  “Figure I can do a run once, twice a week, we’ll be rolling in it. Speaking of which - Thomas Jefferson’s giving me blue balls up here, how about you fix that shit?”

“Thomas Jefferson’s not on any of those bills.”

_ Sit up. Punch, punch. Sit up. Punch, punch. Sit up. Punch, punch.  _

“He  ain’t ?  Well who’s this?” Mickey held a ten dollar bill out for Ian to see.

“I think it’s Alexander Hamilton.” 

_ Sit up. Punch, punch. Sit up. Punch, punch. _

“That so? Huh.  Well if you don’t get in bed soon I’m  gunna rub President Hamilton all over my  grundle and cum on Franklin’s face.”

Ian flopped flat on the floor and let his legs stretch out in front of him. He raked his left hand through his hair.

“And what happens if you get caught? Huh, genius? What then?” Ian growled and got up to his knees, resting his forearms on their bed in a position that reminded Mickey of how his  _ Baba _ had taught him to say his prayers.

“I’m  never gunna -"

Ian scoffed. “Never  gonna get caught? Is that seriously all you're going to say? Who do you think you are, huh, Capone? If you're stealing, you could get caught, Mick. It’s a fucking fact of life. Period. And with your record, they'll throw you back in prison before you can blink. Is that what you want?”

“Ease off, Mr. Gloom and Doom,” Mickey  pulled the money out of his shirt and was smoothing the bills back into a stack with his hands. 

“I can’t go through that again. I can’t have my husband get locked up. It’ll…It’ll break me.”  The whites of Ian’s eyes went pink and Mickey’s hard exterior started to crack .

He never knew what to do when Ian talked like that; when his green eyes clouded over with worry and his beefy, supremely masculine, ex-Army husband looked like he was about to sob. It didn’t happen very often but whenever it did, it made a part of his heart sink into the pit of his gut and  _ ache. _

“Ian I  ain’t going back.  Ya hear me?” In a moment of  purest sincerity, Mickey put his hand on top of Ian’s  and squeezed. 

“What if you do, though? I love you, Mick. I need you here with me. This,” he  flicked his wrist between them. “Doesn’t work – nothing works – if we’re not together.”

Mickey looked away, exhaling hard from his nose , his lips pursed. “Get up here, Mr. Milkovich .”

Ian’s expression softened  and he allowed a smile . Mickey returned the smile ; he just couldn’t help himself.  He loved Ian’s smile. His perfectly straight  teeth that remained  pearly  white  and unstained by nicotine in spite of how much he smoked . 

“Ok fine, Mr. Gallagher ,” Ian  responded with his own pet name for his husband (another  thing they didn’t discuss when  before got married – who was going to change his last name? How  _ do  _ gay couples decide  that anyway?) “But just so you know, nothing is solved. I’m still mad at you.” He climbed over Mickey, assuming his place in bed closer to the window.

“Uh huh. Be mad at me, but touch my dick. I’m  _ dyin _ _ '  _ here.”

Ian cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “I told you, no sex until you're employed.”

Mickey tossed his head back and whined.  “ _ Ian…” _

He crossed his arms, pinning his hands under his armpits.  “Nope.”

The older man growled in his chest. He was still half-hard and smelling Ian’s hot, sweaty body next to him wasn’t exactly helping matters. Reaching into his boxers, he thought  _ maybe  _ if he gave Ian a little show, he’d give in. He squeezed himself at the base and ran his opposite hand down his length over the cotton fabric making exaggerated oohs and  aahs as he did.

“If you get a paper cut on your cock, Mick, I will never let you live that down,” Ian teased, outwardly unfazed by  seeing his husband start to masturbate , but inside the horn dog teenager that lived  in his brain was screaming at him to do something. 

“Fuck, you're right.” Mickey stopped jerking off and pulled the elastic waistband open , then used his free hand to carefully pull t he bills  away from his skin. He dumped the money on the nightstand , not caring that some of it spilled to the floor. 

“No three-way with dead white guys tonight?” Ian shifted his legs under the covers and  wiggled down until he lay flat on his back. 

“You’re more into old guys than me,” Mickey teased. 

“Ha  ha ha ,” Ian replied dryly.

Resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get his way, Mickey laid down and rolled to his side, facing away from Ian. He punched his pillow twice before settling down into it. The younger man moved up behind him, circling his arms around him. Ian nuzzled the tip of his nose just under his earlobe.

“You smell much better now,” Ian remarked, inhaling Mickey’s freshly showered skin. He let the tip of his tongue brush Mickey’s neck. 

“You’re the  _ definition _ of mixed fuckin’ signals.”

“I said no sex, I didn’t say no  _ nothing _ ,” Ian grinned and bit him lightly. He let his hand drop into Mickey’s boxers. His cock responded to Ian’s touch faster than he wanted it to.

“Mm...”

“If you got locked up again, I’d have to follow you.” Ian worked his hand faster and rolled his hips slowly into the other man’s ass.

Mickey closed his eyes and let a hiss escape his lips. 

“If I didn’t get to kiss  you everyday...” Ian’s breath was hot in Mickey’s ear. “Didn’t get to fuck your mouth whenever I wanted to...swallow your cum anytime I wanted it...”

“Fuck,” Mickey whispered, rolling his hips into Ian’s hand.

“I love you so fucking much, Mick.”

Mickey hummed and curled his toes, he was close and all he wanted was Ian’s cock buried deep in his ass.

“Please...” the hard bilabial sound came out so desperately it made Ian moan. 

Ian let go and yanked Mickey’s boxers down past his thick thighs. He tossed the covers off and slapped Mickey’s ass as hard as he dared, forcing Mickey to bite the pillow. 

“Remember how hot it was? Fucking in our cell? We almost broke the bunk on my birthday. You were so hot all spread open for me, holding your ankles. Best birthday ever.”

Mickey did in fact remember. If it were possible to actually miss anything about prison - he had to admit it- mayonnaise or not the sex was always hot.  lan sucked on his middle and forefinger, then dipped his tongue into Mickey's ear.

“Even when I'm mad at you, I still love you and this tight ass,”  lan growled, pushing two fingers into Mickey.

" Ungh -" Mickey groaned. Spit wasn't enough-not nearly enough, but he loved the burn. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. He pushed back into Ian’s fingers, allowing him to probe deeper.

“Won’t you miss this if you get locked back up? You’d miss Daddy, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes...mmm...” Mickey moaned. Ian slipped his other arm under Mickey’s head and held him closer. There was a little pressure to Mickey’s throat and Ian’s nails dug into the flesh above his nipple. Mickey kissed the freckled arm and drew a line up the center of Ian’s wrist with his tongue. 

“I’m  gunna cum,” he moaned into Ian’s skin.

“Not without me, not yet.” 

Ian pulled his fingers free and spit into his palm. He lubed himself up in his fist and Mickey lifted his leg enough for Ian to thrust inside him. A muffled cry of pleasure and pain escaped his throat and he rocked hard back into Ian as he fucked into him, bottoming out in 30 seconds.

“Jesus...Jesus fuck...” Ian bit Mickey’s earlobe. “Jerk your cock, cum for me.”

Mickey’s brain was seconds from going blue screen but he was able to shake it off. He grunted and wrapped his fingers around himself. The bed creaked and groaned underneath them, always to the dismay of anybody who might be trying to watch TV downstairs or enjoy a quiet cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Fuck Mick, you feel so good,” Ian pumped his hips harder. He tightened his forearm around Mickey’s neck until he was almost cutting off his airway. He’d gone full Dom Top on him and Mickey loved every second of it.

Mickey wanted to reply. He wanted to tell Ian how good he felt, how much he loved him, how he never wanted to be apart again, how seeing the ring on his finger made him smile every time he looked at his hand. But he couldn’t. He could barely breathe. If he tried talking, he was sure it would sound more like the squeal of a pig.

“Oh  _ god _ ...” Ian shuddered body and soul as he shot deep into his husband. He tightened his grip on him and sank his teeth into Mickey’s shoulder, which sent him careening over the edge.

“Shit,” Mickey moaned, lolling his head backward until Ian’s tongue found its way into his mouth. They kissed lazily as they both came down and Mickey started chuckling to himself. Ian pulled out, allowing Mickey to flip over so they could make out chest to chest.

“What’s so funny?” Ian asked with a blissed-out expression on his face.

“I win,” Mickey teased, licking Ian’s bottom lip. “I knew I could  getcha to cave.”

Ian smirked. “Who says I caved? I wanted to fuck my husband, so I did. End of story.”

“Uh huh. Self-preservation. I get it, Firecrotch.”

Ian cupped Mickey’s cheek. “You haven’t called me that in ages.”

“ Feelin ’ nostalgic tonight, I guess.”

“I love you, Mick. Even when I don’t.”

“Love you too, Ian. More than you know.”

“Shit...mmm....shit...yes...” Sandy clutched the purple sheets and lifted her head and shoulders from the pillow to look down. Debbie was pushing down on her pelvis with one hand, fingering her with the other while she flicked her clit with her tongue. She’d managed to crack Sandy’s code on their first hook up and the older woman had been hooked on the redhead ever since. What was supposed to be something frivolous and quick had turned into Sandy falling hard and fast. It was scary and wonderful and 95% Mickey’s fault. 

She only jokingly blamed her cousin for the relationship she’d found herself in unexpectedly. She had become accustomed to hitting it and quitting it when it came to women – especially single moms, but there was just something about Debbie fucking Gallagher that she couldn’t shake. She and Mickey had sat on the front stairs just the previous evening chain-smoking and ruminating on what exactly it was that they loved about the redheaded  Gallaghers – neither Milkovich was particularly successful in naming anything in particular – there was just the proverbial “it” that they felt.

Debbie made her cum again. Sandy rocked her hips into her mouth, muting her moaning on her arm. Placing one wet, soft kiss to the inside of her thigh, Debbie moved up the length of Sandy’s body so she could kiss her mouth. 

“You’re so cute,” Debbie kissed her neck.

“Am not,” Sandy replied, blushing.

“Agree to disagree.”

Sandy reached into her drawer and found the loaded roach clip from earlier that day. She lit the stubby joint and inhaled before passing it to Debbie. The younger woman carefully balanced it on her knee while she pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She took a drag and passed it back to Sandy.

“We should say it more,” Sandy said after a silence. She exhaled pot smoke from the corner of her mouth and watched Debbie take the clip from between her fingers.

“Say what more?”

“ _ I  _ should tell my girlfriend that I love her more often. Cuz’ I really do and I need her to know it.”

Debbie’s face was already pink from sexual exertion but she turned pinker still as she blushed.

“I guess your girlfriend would like that. I should say it more, too.”

“You go first,” Sandy found a  prelit joint in her stash box and lit it, inhaling down to her tingling toes.

The redhead rolled her eyes. “I love you.”

Sandy flipped her hair from one side to the other. “Love you too.” She playfully tweaked her nose. 

“Do you think Franny is gay?” Debbie pursed her lips and inhaled another drag.

“She might be,” Sandy replied. “But she’s luckier than we are. If I had a mom like you... coulda saved me a lot of heartache.”

Debbie shrugged a shoulder. “You wouldn’t be you without all that. And, if it’s not already  _ abundantly _ clear...I like you.”

Sandy batted her eyes in an exaggerated ‘who, me?’ as she took yet another drag. “Want another piece of birthday cake?”

Debbie laughed and nodded, taking the joint between pinched fingers. “If I have any more of this, I’m going to dig into all the leftover party food.”

“A full-on pig out. I say let’s do it.” Sandy clapped Debbie’s thigh and pushed herself off the bed. She found a pair of boxers on the floor and a long t-shit, getting dressed before opening the bedroom door.

“Sandy?” Debbie called over to her.

“Mm?”

Debbie formed a heart with her hands and then pointed at Sandy. “And not just because you’re bringing me food.”

Sandy winked. “Me too.”


End file.
